


Ripples

by Glowbug



Series: Hidden Puzzles [3]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Angst, Azran Legacy Spoilers, Communication Failure, Except Luke, Gen, Hershel Layton is a brilliant man but he kind of sucks at emotional heart-to-hearts, Luke is just sad and very sleepy, big helpings of guilt for everybody, if you are looking for shipping look elsewhere, mention of canon character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-02 08:02:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11505123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glowbug/pseuds/Glowbug
Summary: Layton goes searching for Emmy the morning after the fall of the Azran sanctuary, and finds her on the shore of Lake Kodh. One-shot.





	Ripples

The morning after the fall of the Azran sanctuary, Emmy does not come down to breakfast.

Luke, nearly nodding off into his oatmeal after spending much of the night crying, seems oblivious at first. Towards the end of their lethargic meal, however, however, the boy’s eyes begin to float around the room. “Professor?”

Layton has barely touched his own breakfast. “Back to bed, my boy. I’ll look in on her.”

“I want to help…” An enormous yawn punctuates the sentence.

 _Oh, my dear boy. Not this time. Not after yesterday…_ Fortunately, the twelve-year-old’s eyes are already drifting shut again. Layton picks him up gently and carries him back to their room.

Emmy’s door is ajar; only the tangle of blankets at the foot of the bed suggests that the room has been occupied. The innkeeper denies having seen her, as do several passersby.

It is nearly midmorning before he considers what should have been obvious: the lake.

He finds her on the shore, sitting with her head on her knees in the frost-covered indentation left yesterday by Grosky’s helicopter. She is disturbingly still until he speaks her name; then she lifts her head, blinking at him sluggishly.

“Professor.” Her face is blotchy, her eyes dry but swollen and too bright.

He sits down beside her. What to say?

She studies his face before putting her head down again. “Is Luke okay?” The words are muffled, husky.

“He’s at the hotel. I believe he’s asleep.” _I hope he is._

“I didn’t want to hurt him.” A rush of words. “I _didn’t,_ I need you to know that, I _never._ ”

Layton’s hand closes on the brim of his hat. “I’d… hoped as much.” He’d staked his trust on that hope yesterday. It had ended well… or relatively so. And yet.

A few minutes pass.

It is Emmy who breaks the silence, without looking up. “What now?”

“I’m not yet certain. Although I will be glad to return home. It has been… something of an ordeal. Has it not?”

A single, barking laugh. “Yep.” She draws a breath. “…I could have saved her, Professor. If I’d just—fuck…” She winces; even with her face partly obscured, it is visible. “Sorry.”

He does not comment, even on her language. (He ought to reassure her, but is she mistaken, truly?)

(If he himself had taken Aurora to safety before pursuing Descole, perhaps she would be safe and well now. If he had so much as _asked_ her what she meant by “who I really am”…)

He pulls the hat down further. Claire would have known what to do.

Emmy sneezes, reminding him of the cold air. “How long have you been out here?” he asks.

She shrugs. “I couldn’t sleep.”

Surely not all night?

“I ran the perimeter of the lake a couple times. I’m all right.”

He hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud. He looks out at the enormous lake. “An impressive feat.”

“I’ve had a lot of practice.”

She must have grown up inside Targent. Curiosity blooms in his mind, but Emmy’s childhood is unimportant at present. “Perhaps you should come back to the hotel now, however.” Whatever she claims, she must be badly chilled. But the words he says are, “Inspector Grosky mentioned that on our return to London he would like, erm, a more formal statement from you…”

“You mean he wants to read me the riot act.”

“…ahem.”

She lifts her head at last, giving him a small, forced smile. “At least this time I’ve earned it, right?”

 _This was not your fault, Emmy._ It comes to the tip of his tongue, but instead of speaking he lets the silence between them stretch for far too long. Are any of them truly blameless in this, aside from Aurora and Luke?

Emmy drops her gaze. “Nothing to be done, I suppose.” She stands, stiff-limbed, and starts to move away.

“I’d thought to procure tickets for us on the noon train,” he says quietly. “For—the three of us, that is. Would that be all right?”

She halts, her back to him. “You’re asking _me?”_

“A gentleman… must always consider a lady’s wishes.” It’s not the true reason—he can’t yet articulate that.

Emmy rubs her eyes. “I’m no lady, Professor. Not the way you mean. I never was.”

“…Nevertheless.” There is nothing else he can say.

“I’ll meet you on the platform, then.”

Layton does not follow her as she leaves. He spends a few more minutes watching the lake before turning back to the town, to train tickets and everyday responsibilities.

In spite of the survival of humanity, he can’t help but feel he has failed.


End file.
